CHAPTER 33



Saturday 12th August 1944

I was glad to see Pa standing on the platform at Kerslake Station when our train finally puffed its way in.  We had caught our connections with time to spare but the last part of the journey was very slow as we were held up for about an hour while two long tanker trains rolled down our line and changed tracks onto the proper line about half a mile along.  All this was due to a broken-down engine on the other line a couple of miles further on.  That train was full of soldiers who didn't sound very pleased from the fruity language they were using when they shouted at us hanging out of the window of our train as we passed them.  `Couple of grinning bastards' was the least offensive epithet, although `bloody wogs' meant little to us as we just didn't realise how sun-tanned we appeared to others..

     So, hot and hungry, we jumped off the train dragging our bags behind us onto the platform.  Pa came hurrying up.

     “Hey, you two,” he greeted us, “I've brought the car!  Essential journey, I thought!  How are you?”

     I had rehearsed what I was going to say as soon as I got home expecting to have to walk, so, seeing Pa, mangled my practised script.  I whipped round to speak to Pa who stuck out a hand and gave Matt a friendly pat.

     “Oh Dad!” I began, “Hey, Uncle Edward's getting married and we're related to the Crossleys!”

     Pa held up a hand.  “First things first!  I know those two things.  How are you two?”

     Both of us tried to talk at once saying we were OK and we'd had a wonderful time.  Pa laughed and we were ushered to the station forecourt and into the back seats of the car.

     I was still trying to tell him about the discoveries and so on as he started up the engine.

     “You're quite the chatterbox now, Jacko, wait until we get home, I'm sure Matt doesn't want to hear it all again.”

     Suitably chastened I shut up and Matt put his hand above my knee and squeezed.  I winced.  I'll get the grinning bastard I thought, I'll squeeze his knackers, I'll...

     Pa was speaking over his shoulder.  “You're mother was coming with me, Matt, but Julia's fallen over and sprained her ankle so she's being fussed over.”

     Matt did grin.  There seemed to be little love lost between brother and sister.  Pa went on to say about her accident and that filled the time getting to Matt's house. Anyway, his mother was pleased to see him when we dropped him off, even more so, I think, when she saw the box of eggs he was carefully carrying.  She even hugged him as he tried not to have the box squashed.

     As soon as I got indoors Ma hugged me too.  Absence makes the heart grow fonder I suppose!

     “He doesn't half rabbit on!” Pa started.

     Ma let go of me.  “And I suppose he tried to tell all his news and you talk of rabbits!”

     We all laughed.  Ma sometimes didn't quite get English idiom.

     Pa wasn't deterred.  “When I saw the pair of them get off the train I nearly said I didn't know I was collecting a pair of Hottentots, then I remembered Matthew was born in Africa and might think I was casting aspersions on his ancestry.  But, gosh, Jacko, what have you been doing?  I daren't ask if it's all over!”  He laughed.

     “Naturally,” I said and they both dissolved in laughter again.  A son who confessed to sunbathing in the nude wasn't something come across most days.  “But don't you want to hear all the news?”

     Ma was back on an even keel now.  “We know about Uncle Edward and something about the Crossleys and there's a letter for you from Mrs Crossley and I had one from Lady Bing.  But don't you want something to eat first, it's most uncharacteristic of you.”

     Oh, Ma, you certainly use English authoritatively when you need!  `Uncharacteristic', that's a mouthful and I needed more than one mouthful.

     Tea was laid up in the breakfast room.  Ma scrambled some of the eggs I had been given by Grandpa and I was soon munching away while Pa was perusing the Wills and the more neatly prepared family tree which Grandpa had produced a couple of nights before.

     Ma came in and was eating when Pa looked up.  I had finished my plateful and was attacking a sticky bun.

     “I always thought there was something wrong with young Jacko here.”

     Ma and I stopped eating and stared at him.  What did he mean?  He just grinned at us.

     “Comes of cousins marrying.  Known as incest. Has dreadful effects on the offspring!”

     He tapped the side of his head, made an idiotic looking face and bobbed his head from side to side.

     Ma shot him a horrified look.

     “I am not your cousin!” she expostulated.

     “Oh, yes you are!” both Pa and I said almost in unison.

     Ma looked a bit taken aback.  Then she nodded.  She pointed at Pa.

     “If what your brother has found out is true and we are both descended from a Crossley somewhere up there...” She gestured skywards.   “.....then....”

     “That make's us something like third cousins if I've got it right,” said Pa nodding.  “Old William Crossley was great-great-grandfather to both of us.”   He looked carefully at the tree.  “One daughter married a horny-handed son of  the soil, a Thomson no less, and the other..,” He tapped the paper on the table.  “...and the other, according to what my brother told me on the telephone, was seduced by a Frenchman named Fontane...”

     I collapsed in giggles.  Ma looked daggers at Pa.

     “A Fontane would never do that!” she said emphatically and defensively.  “And there's nothing wrong with Jacko!!”

     “I hope not,” I said.

     Pa laughed.  “I doubt it.  You've got quite a pedigree, Jacko.  Good English farming stock on one side...,” He bowed his head towards Ma next to me.   “....and French joie de vivre, or the result of the eau de vie her grandfather used to ply me with before I married his grand-daughter!  That was seductive!”

     Ma laughed at this point. “Seductive?”  She looked at me.  “Your father is just boastful.   Grandpere Jacques was eighty-six when he died so the eau de vie was good for him!  Seductive, for him?”  She pointed at dad. “Non!  But we are cousins?”

     With that Ma burst into tears.  I couldn't do anything else but turn to her and give her a big hug.

     “Mum, cheer up, I'm so happy we're all one family.”

     She nodded.  “I'm alright, it's marvellous - I just couldn't believe it.”

     She hugged me back.  She was calmed down now.

     “I've got to tell you something about what happened at Ulvescott,” I said, rather tentatively.

     I had rehearsed a version of the visits to Ulvescott, especially Tom's involvement and the incident when the trio were about to subject me to unknown indignities, plus Bran taking us to the grave.  There was lots to tell even in a bowdlerised version and I had learned that word when Rhys had told us about Thomas Bowdler and his expurgated revision of Shakespeare for tender ears.
     Ma and Pa sat in silence while I went through the account from the grave, to the howling, to Tom calling me Piers, plus the evident likenesses of the photographs and the birthmarks.  When I finished there were a few moments of silence then Pa spoke up.

     “Have you discussed any of this with Tom?” he asked.

     I shook my head.  “I couldn't, but I could say things now Uncle Edward has found out all these connections.”

     Pa smiled and nodded sagely.  “Actually, your Uncle told me all the story over the telephone the other evening  from his memory of what you'd told him and the others.  Tom's away at Boys' Brigade camp but I did talk to Morag Buchanan about it.”  He held up a hand.  “It's alright, Jacko, she understands.  She said she wasn't surprised about Tom.  She said her mother was renowned for having the second sight, as they call it in the Highlands, and she thinks Tom may have inherited it.  She told me of a couple of instances where he'd said things which he couldn't have known before.  He's a canny lad, as his mother said.  However, she would rather you didn't say too much to him.  See if he wants to talk about it but she says he doesn't really remember when he does this sort of thing.”

     I stared at Pa while he was saying this.  How could Tom do this.  It was a gift, I supposed.  I wouldn't want to upset him so any explanations from him would have to wait.

     “She said Duncan had no second sight at all.  In fact, he rather pooh-poohed the idea until Tom starting describing a place which could only be India and said his Dad was OK.  It turned out Mr Buchanan had been posted to India but on arrival had been in a car and lorry accident.  His driver was badly injured but he wasn't hurt.”  Pa shook his head.  “It was two months later when they heard about it and Tom had forgotten he had described the incident.  Duncan said then that Tom had told him several things as a small boy and he knew they were true so he believed him now.”

     “I didn't know what to say to Tom, but I won't mention anything now unless he talks about it,” I said, “But what about Bran?”

     Pa said it was a good idea not to say anything to Tom unless he raised it and I wondered how Tom would get on having such a gift.  He said he didn't know about the dog, that was strange. I let that rest because in my mind were other things as well.

     “Do Mrs Crossley and Mr Marcham know about all this?”  I asked, pointing at the family tree paper in front of Pa.

     “Not to worry, they all know.  Your Uncle wrote to both of them and your grandfather has sent them copies of the Wills and the tree, at least on the Crossley side.  Your friend Tony only knows you and he are related.  He's at his grandmother's at the moment.  The main news for us is that Mrs Crossley has invited your mother and me to visit Ulvescott next weekend, but there's more news for you.”

     `Mother and me'!   What about me?  Well, the next news was staggering as Ma took over.

     “I've had a letter from Mrs Crossley and another from Lady Bing and this is yours from Mrs Crossley.”  She produced two opened letters and a sealed one which she passed to me.  “Go on,” she urged, “Open it.”

     The letter was several pages long and it took a few minutes to read and digest.  She welcomed me to the family then went on to say how struck she had been of the resemblance between me and her son.  This was even  more so after hearing from Uncle Edward and she was so glad I found Ulvescott to be a happy place and I was welcome at any time as she knew it was home for me.  The letter then went on to say about Lady Bing.  She had been at the memorial service in Kerslake Cathedral the previous week for the Reverend Campion as she was related to his wife and was very impressed by the contribution to the service by John and Timothy Parker who played the slow movement from a cello sonata by Brahms.  She had asked to meet them but John had to be at his call-up barracks two days after, so, in discussion with Mrs Crossley, Timothy and I were invited to stay at Ulvescott and he could visit Lady Bing at Ashburn House.

     Ma and Pa were grinning as I finished the letter.  Ma handed me the one from Lady Bing which reiterated the invitation and said she was sorry she could not accommodate us at Ashburn House because of the shortage of staff as there was a war on.  However, dear Mary Crossley had offered to have rooms for us.

     Ma said all was arranged.  Timothy (I couldn't tell her if I called him that he would most probably thump me as he didn't even like being called Tim!) and I would be catching the bus to Ulvescott on Monday morning and would stay until Sunday evening as Ma and Pa were coming on Saturday and we would all be coming back by car on Sunday evening.  I was to go and see Tim(othy) tomorrow to sort everything out and I had been invited to lunch by Mrs Parker.

     So that was that!  I had to be clean, tidy, well-dressed for lunch tomorrow and have all my things clean for the visit to Ulvescott.  I had to strip off completely and sat in my dressing-gown during the evening while Ma washed and Pa smoked his pipe and asked me to go over the story again..  I escaped to the comfort of my bed while it was still light and wanked myself twice thinking of my poor lonely self and lonely Matt and poor Piers and what did the future hold?

                         *

     Lunch with Mrs Parker and Tim went well.  Tim played the piano after and then his mother played the cello part, which his brother had played at the cathedral, with him accompanying.   Mrs Parker said she wasn't anywhere as good as John but it sounded marvellous to me.  Mrs Parker embarrassed Tim a bit by saying that the Bishop and the Head Beak had both been most complimentary after the service and, obviously, Lady Bing had been most impressed.  To change the subject Tim said that his brother hoped to get into a military band while in the Army so he'd learned to play the clarinet in six weeks to give himself another instrument.  Whew!  Tim and I then arranged to meet up at the Bus Station in the morning and if I thought Matt was apprehensive at times poor Tim seemed even more so.

                         *

     On the journey Tim asked me countless questions about Ulvescott and what Lady Bing was like.  I teased him a bit by saying her daughter was a Duchess and they both looked a bit stern but we'd had sandwiches with the crusts on when Tom and I visited them!

     After disembarking from the ancient bus Tim was looking around at the cottages in the village, mainly thatched and looking very Olde Englishe, then stared at the rather imposing gates to Ulvescott Manor which, luckily, had not been sacrificed to the War Effort.  He stared even more at Bran who was waiting, sitting up looking through the bars in an imperious manner.  I opened the small gate and went in.  I stood by Bran who raised a paw and I shook it.  I then said I had another friend visiting and introduced Tim.  He looked a bit scared but, very bravely, shook Bran's paw.  I dropped to my knees and put my arms round Bran's neck and I'm afraid I cried.  Bran stood still and when I let go he licked my hand very gently as if he knew how I felt.

     I had already explained to Tim about Uncle Edward's findings and some of the things about Ulvescott and me but he was rather taken aback at Bran's next action as, when I stood up, he reared up and put his paws over my shoulders and just stood with his head over one of his paws.  Gosh, he was heavy, but I knew I mustn't move.  I knew this was his doggy way of welcoming me to the family and the family home.

     The next welcome was even more emotional.  Mrs Crossley was waiting at the front door which was wide open. She hugged me and cried and Miss Pike appeared in the background and by offering her a large handkerchief managed to prise me from her grasp.  It was all talk and telling of the story again round a table in the breakfast room where a mountain of cold chicken pieces, new bread and gorgeous pickles, were brought in by a beaming Mrs Brown and a scurrying Dora who stared at me with wide open eyes.

     Tim had no time to be apprehensive.  After having a huge lunch he was led to the grand piano in the drawing-room where he launched into the first movement of a Beethoven Sonata which sounded wonderful. After that there was no stopping him, he played continuously for about two hours.  Mrs Crossley was so happy.

     I had taken our bags up to Piers' room after lunch as Mrs Crossley said she assumed we would want to share it.  As soon as I went in I just stood and said silently to myself that I was glad I could share the room with Piers and his memory and he would never be forgotten.  The window was open because it was a hot day.  At that moment the curtain fluttered even though there seemed to be no breeze.  I smiled - I was home.

     While Tim was playing I went for a wander round outside with Bran in attendance.  I went straight round to the wood cutting barn but found no one.  I then discovered Hans hoeing a large vegetable patch.  He had no shirt on and his dungarees were held up by a piece of string tied round his waist.  He too had been taking advantage of the sun and with his fair hair and light skin he had gone a golden brown.  Bran gave a soft 'woof' as we approached so Hans turned and on seeing me smiled an expansive smile.  We chatted for ages as he hoed, me following him up the rows and trying to tell him all my story in my best possible German. He laughed when he heard I was related to the Crossleys and he said he would look forward to meeting my mother at the weekend and he would tell Herr Vogel because of my grandfather.

     I explained that I had brought another friend, Tim, and he was going to play the piano for Lady Bing.  Hans explained that Herr Vogel had gone to work for her for a couple of weeks trying to get her vegetables in order.  I promised to bring Tim to see him the next day but he would have to practice his English as Tim would only know German words from musical instructions like Langsam and Schnell!   

     When I got back to the Manor Tim was already drinking tea and chatting with Mrs Crossley who said she had so enjoyed listening to him.  After a cup of tea and a bun I took Tim up to the bedroom to have a wash and change into trousers out of shorts ready for the evening meal.  He was very impressed with the room and we spent quite a time looking at the photographs.  He remarked quite spontaneously how I and Piers resembled each other.  Unpacking didn't take long, but when I put my trousers on I noticed straight away how much I'd grown even in the past month.  My trousers were getting a bit short in the leg at Speech Day, now, only that short time later I was showing more sock.  I eased the waist band down over my hips a bit and hoped Ma would be able to do something before I started school again.  Clothes rationing and coupons were a nightmare - but, luckily, I thought there was an old pair of Chris Gardiner's in the wardrobe which I hadn't tried on yet.

     Dinner that evening was a bit of a pain.  There was Mrs Crossley, Miss Pike, Tim and me and two of the Land Army Girls.  Elizabeth, who had twitted Tony on a previous visit, really excelled herself with her snobbishness.  Her father, it turned out, was a Canon at Kerslake Cathedral and, of course, Tim's father was only a Lay Vicar, that is, a member of the permanent choir, but was away in the Army.  Elizabeth was laying it on thick about how important her father was and how wonderful it was having a house in the cathedral Close when Tim quietly said he had always found Canon Tilson to be such a nice man, most interested in music, as he met him often when he went for lessons with Dr Baines who was deputising for the cathedral organist.  It shut her up for a while but she excelled herself later.  At Mrs Crossley's instigation I had been telling the tale about the family tree as they had only heard a bit about it from Miss Pike.  Miriam, the other Land Girl, smiled at me when I got to the end.

     “I've always thought there must be a connection,” she said, “I've looked at that photograph of Piers in the drawing-room and you are so like him.”

     Elizabeth struck again.  “Does this mean you are more entitled to this place than Mrs. Crossley's nephew?”

     I was a bit taken aback and Mrs Crossley shot her a sharp look.

     “Jacko and his family are always welcome here,” she said levelly, “Whoever inherits this place when I'm dead and gone is not a matter for discussion!”

     What did she mean?  That response certainly shut Elizabeth up for the rest of the meal.

     After dinner Mrs Crossley asked Tim to play again and at least Elizabeth had the grace to listen and to thank him afterwards.  The two girls left and the two ladies sat as Tim told them he wanted to be a professional musician and was applying to go to music college when he left school.  Of course, he added, that depended whether this War would go on for ever.  Mrs Crossley said the news was good and getting better as she had heard on the six o'clock news of landings in the south of France.  She then said she'd had to provide a statement for the police, which would be used by the prosecution, about the finding of the black-market goods in her cellar.  Ex-Sergeant Higgs was certainly in the mire!  The ladies then settled down to play cards while Tim and I went out into the grounds - once, apparently lawned, but now almost all under some sort of cultivation.

     Tim sighed.  “You are so lucky knowing such nice people, except for that Lizzie Tilson.  I remember Dad saying once about how could Canon Tilson have such an obnoxious brat as a child.”  He smiled.  “But, it's lovely here, I like it.  I hope Lady Bing is as nice!”

     We went back indoors about nine o'clock and as the ladies were still playing cards we said we would go up to bed.   As it was still very warm we stripped down to our underpants and sat on the window seat by the open window.  I got Piers' diaries out and we read through them.  Tim was amused about the code.

     “Crumbs!” he said after he'd totted up one week's entries. “He certainly liked it.”  He looked at me cannily. “More times than me.”

     Um?   We would see about that!  Anyway, reading the diaries more carefully showed that Piers must have been a very nice, intelligent lad, interested in many things.  He knew lots about the wild-life on the estate and although he went shooting he noted all sorts of things about animals such as badgers and the occasional deer.  He noted several times attending concerts in London and visits to play for Lady Bing.  I noted his school was called the Imperial Service College, and that was the name of the school that Uncle Edward said his soon-to-be step-sons went to.

     As dusk began to fall we washed and, under Tim's watchful eye, I stripped completely and climbed into bed.  Naturally, as my underpants came off my already stiff cock was revealed.

     “Come on!  Bed,” I said.

     He seemed a bit hesitant as he had laid his pyjamas neatly on the pillow on his side of the bed. He slipped off his pants and climbed in next to me.

     “Don't usually sleep in the buff,” he said.  “Our house gets pretty cold at times.”

     “Warm enough here, though,” I said, turning to face him.  He turned at the same time.  Our knees clashed as we had both drawn them up slightly.  Just the feel of that touch gave me an even harder prick.  He smiled at me.

     “I don't usually sleep with anyone.  John and I have always had separate rooms so he can practice in peace.  I expect I snore or something, anyway.”

     I wriggled in the bed, our knees touched again.  I put a hand out and placed it on his bare thigh.  Gosh, he was quite hairy as I felt the fuzziness under my fingers.

     “I usually sleep alone, too,” I said, “I don't have a brother, but I've shared a bed a good few times with cousins or others.”

     I could see the look on his face.  He was taking in that statement very carefully.

     “I've only ever slept in a bed with my brother and that hasn't been often.  But I have slept in a tent with others on Scout camps.”

     I noted he hadn't moved my hand from his thigh.  I moved it up a bit until it was on his hip.  I beat a little tattoo on his protruding bone.  He wriggled a bit closer and put a hand on my hip.  He repeated the tattoo.

     “That's the opening of the last movement of Schubert's Fifth Symphony,” he whispered.  He tapped again and hummed at the same time,”Di da-da di-di da-da di-di di-di diddle-diddle dah-ah.”  I was amazed.  Schubert?  “Do you know it?” he asked.

     “I don't think so,” I replied, desperately trying to think.  I supposed I must have heard it.  I listened most evenings to my wireless especially if there was a concert on and if I twiddled the dial I could get stations such as Hilversum which I had discovered was in Holland.  I explained that I had probably heard it but I didn't recognise it.

     “Funny thing, musical memory,” he said.  “I only have to hear a tune or a piece of music once and I seem to know it.  Dad's the same.  He wanted to go to music college but his family couldn't afford it - they were miners - but someone gave him singing lessons and he sang a solo in a performance of the Messiah when we were in Wales and was offered a post here at the cathedral because of that.  I miss Dad.  I suppose he'll be back some day.”  He paused.  “I miss John, too, and he's only been gone a week or so.”

     “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” I said.

     He thumped me lightly on he leg.  “Yeah!  He reminded me of that afternoon many times.  Always wanted to know my score! I said it was only you and couple of others.”

     Unh!  I'd better not tell him my score was over thirty so far and I was not quite fifteen and he would be sixteen in November.  Anyway, my dick was still at full stretch and was beginning to ache.  I lowered my hand from his hip and brushed it across his belly.  I felt rough hair against my knuckles and he flinched a bit.  Not deterred, I ran my hand upwards and the back of my hand just glanced against  his own erect rod.  I turned my hand and grasped the last three inches of a much more hefty cock than it had been not so long ago.

     “Gosh, Tim, you've grown,” I said taking the shaft in my fist and running my almost closed palm down to his pubes. He must have got a good six inches now.  Thin, whippy and long.  He flinched again as I pulled down rather sharply to unsheathe his knob end from his foreskin.  I quickly put my towel between us and he turned onto his back and  began to breath quite heavily as I beat his skinny long pole.  It took quite a while before he started to jerk and judder in the bed beside me then his spunk poured out.  It didn't spurt, it was as I had noticed before, very, very thick and it dripped out of his slit as I gripped his rod.

     He recovered his breath and his senses.  “Wow!” he said earnestly, “It's never like that when I do it.  God, that was good.”

     I wiped his lower stomach area with the towel.

     “Try me,” I said.

     He turned and gripped my shaft.

     “Gosh!” he murmured, “You're thicker than I am.”

     He wanked me slowly but strongly and in the gathering dusk he watched as my spunk spurted over my chest and onto my neck.  Like all the others he commented on the amount of stuff I produced.  I mopped myself.

     I turned to him and put an arm over his shoulder.

     “I don't think that matters,” I said, “It's what goes on before  it comes out, eh?”

     He chuckled lightly.  “You're right.  What you did just now was glorious.”

     We talked for a few minutes, he reiterating how marvellous this place was and weren't Mrs Crossley and the other lady nice and wasn't that Lizzie Tilson a real cow!

     On that happy note we settled down and the next thing I knew it was morning.

                              *
     Tuesday the arrangements were for us to go over to Ashburn House in the morning where Tim would stay and play for Lady Bing.  I said I would come back to the Manor as he could find his own way back ready for dinner in the evening.  In fact, it worked out marvellously.  I went with him the first day but for the rest of the week he went by himself appearing tired but happy about half five each afternoon.  He was not only playing things he knew for her but she asked him to go through operas and songs she had sung when she was a professional singer.  He said that although she would be ninety something next month she could still sing a bit.  He came back each day with copies of operas and all sorts of other music.  He was quite entertaining at dinner in the evenings as he said Lady Bing has known all sorts of famous musicians and when she spoke of Sir Arthur and Sir Edward she had known both Sullivan and Elgar.  Her husband had been a woollen manufacturer up North somewhere and had financed lots of concerts and so on, so she had met and sung for numerous of these musicians.  He said he was learning so much as she was taking him through operatic works very carefully showing how she had learned the roles and how they had been directed.  And, as for that piano!  He couldn't praise it enough.
     He said that the Duchess had to restrain her mother and make her rest after lunch and he had found her to be interesting as well.  She was actually very musical and while mother was resting he and the Duchess played duets.

     I spent the week exploring around the estate and looking at the things growing in the fields with Bran but also spent a lot of time talking to Hans.  Talking in German for several hours a day really increased my facility and on the Friday Herr Vogel turned up so I had an hour or so of French with him.  He was so pleased he would be meeting my mother on Saturday.

     Every night Tim thanked me for bringing him here.  I pointed out he had been invited because of what Lady Bing had heard he could do.  And, every night was the same.  We had a single wank, exactly like the first night.  I tried to see if he was interested in anything further but even when I tentatively licked his knob end he, I think, just thought it was a bit odd.  I desisted after that.  Of course, once a night wasn't sufficient for horny young Jacko.  Thursday night at about two a.m. I slipped out to the lav and tossed myself off as I was restless, tossing and turning in bed and unable to get to sleep.  Friday afternoon I had to do it again to myself as my dick kept going stiff for no apparent reason and I was certainly ready for it again in bed that night.

     Mrs Crossley had said to me that I could have any of Piers' belongings that I wanted.  I said all I wanted was a photograph and that I thought all his things should stay in his room.  She smiled at this and said I could have  it all sometime!  Oh?  Anyway, I took the photo of him and Miles in their rowing gear and put it carefully with my things to take home.

     Ma and Pa turned up in good time on Saturday morning.  Mrs Crossley had had one of the bedrooms cleaned and prepared for them but they were shown around the Manor first.  Ma giggled when she saw the Horsebox and said she thought I was much more suited for Piers' room.  Pa explored all the African artefacts in that other bedroom and thought I would look good in a Zulu chief's outfit because of my colour.  After lunch I took Ma to meet Hans and Herr Vogel.  It was quite an emotional meeting.  Hans was so pleased to be spoken to so kindly in German and Herr Vogel and Ma got on so well.  He had remembered more about his friend and who he'd talked about in Strasbourg.  Ma had travelled quite a bit in the region of Germany where he came from so they had lots else to talk about as well.  Pa came to look for us because we had been gone well over an hour and I was surprised at his fluent German as he chatted to Hans, but then he had spent time at university there as well as in France.

     Of course, Tim had to play to us all that evening before dinner and he sounded so good.  Elizabeth Tilson and the other two Land Girls were there and the `ducky doctor' wasn't mentioned though I did note she looked at me warily once or twice when I said things like how much Matt enjoyed coming to Ulvescott.  She kept very quiet and her acid opinions, which she usually expressed about any topic, were not forthcoming.

     That last night in bed Tim took the initiative.  He was so effusive with his thanks he actually hugged me tight and then felt for my cock and began to toss me off.  I was so keyed up needing a wank I sprayed my spunk all over him very quickly.  We spent the next ten minutes or so giggling together before I made him lie on his back to give him as intense a wank as I could.  He was very vocal - I had to put a hand over his mouth at first until I got myself in a position where my steady wanking movements could go on while I stuck my mouth over his and pushed my tongue in.  After he had reached his climax and then calmed down I said perhaps he should set his moans and shouts to music as they were just as intelligible as Mairzy Doats and Dozy Doats.  That set us off giggling again.

     One bit of news that Ma imparted to me was that, if I liked, I could go down to Ipswich to stay with Uncle Edward's intended wife and meet her two sons.  If so, I could catch a train to London on Wednesday as Mrs Cameron was in London that day.  I asked Ma if she thought it would be OK as they were Public Schoolboys and I only went to a Grammar School.  She made a very true statement, `Boys will be boys whoever they are'!  That was settled.

     We set off back to Kerslake after Sunday lunch.  Tim was laden with music books so the back of the car was quite a squash with him and me and bags and books.  Pa said he would take back roads as much as possible as he didn't want any nosy coppers wanting to know where his petrol came from to take the family out on non-essential business.  As he did get a small petrol ration I didn't think he needed to worry but Pa was a worrier over things like that.

     As soon as we got in Ma telephoned Mrs Cameron and all was arranged.  That night in bed I wondered what Lachlan and Andrew would be like.  If boys will be boys this boy did two lots of boyish things that night!

                         *
                    Monday 21st August 1944

     I had explained to Ma my concern about my trousers as I had grown over the summer.  Luckily there was a pair of Chris's, which with a bit of alteration would be suitable, especially if I was going to meet these two Public Schoolboys.  Ma pointed out I was now taller than she was.  I stood against the marks which had been made over the years on the wall in the kitchen and she put a ruler across my head and put a new mark.  Gosh, I was taller than her.  She was tall herself at five feet eight inches and I was now five feet eight and a half inches.

     I hadn't done my run that morning so later in the morning I went looking for Tom.  He wasn't around.  Mrs Buchanan said he was probably with Tony Clarke and his cousin so I cycled round to Tony Marcham's to talk to him.  They were still away.  I gave up after cycling past Matt's and seeing that the place also looked shut up.  Bugger me, all my friends away and me with all sorts of news!  I went home, stripped off in my room and had a wank watching myself - a brown-skinned wanking machine - in the mirror.  I slipped on a pair of shorts and found an old deckchair and lolled in the garden reading a Henty book I'd found in Pa's study.  A gift to him `From Edward'.  After lunch I had another wank and then that night in bed I was ready for another one!  At least I could amuse myself!

     Tuesday was the same although I did my run and met Tom doing his paper-round on the way back.  There was no invite to join him and the other two so I thought `Fuck him' and went home to breakfast and a wank as soon as Ma went off to work.  Two more wanks during the day, before and after going to the station to buy my ticket for the next day, and then the usual bed-time relaxer which I needed to get me into the mood for setting off in the morning.  I laughed to myself as I lay wiping the cum off my stomach thinking at least I had one little friend who was always ready to play.  As I lifted my cock to wipe under it I also thought to myself that my little friend wasn't so little these days either.
                              *
     Wednesday morning I didn't run.  The train was leaving at ten o'clock and Mrs Cameron was meeting me at the main-line terminus in London when it arrived.  The arrangements were she would take me to lunch and she had a meeting at a publisher's in Bloomsbury in the afternoon and we would be catching the five o'clock from Liverpool Street station to Ipswich.

     All went swimmingly.  The train was more or less on time.  I think I was the only boy on the train which seemed to be full of elderly, disgruntled looking men and a few soldiers and others in uniform.  I was squashed up in a corner seat, luckily by the window, by a young sailor who had a very large lady occupying at least one and a half seats next to him.  When she lumbered out to go to the lav he whispered to me. “Hope the old bat gets stuck!”  The man opposite lowered his paper and grinned. She was gone ages and the lad asked where I was going.  I told him and he said he was just going to join his ship but he wouldn't say where.  He laughed and pointed to the poster displayed in the train corridor `Careless Talk Costs Lives'.  I said I had a friend whose Dad was a Commander and he raised his eyebrows and said he had a long way to go as he was only a Leading Seaman.  I remembered what Matt had told me about his encounter in the lavs and this sailor was wearing bell-bottoms, and.... I took one or two surreptitious looks and.... he did have a flap at his front.  Oh God! My cock began to twitch.  Down Fido!  Luckily the fat lady returned and in the kerfuffle as she reclaimed more than her rightful amount of space I was distracted and Fido went back into his kennel.

     So, I was glad when the train arrived at my first destination.  I said cheerio to the sailor as he hefted his duffel bag onto his shoulder and we waited while the fat lady sorted out her possessions before retreating sideways through the carriage door.  It meant he and I were amongst the last off the train. He gave me a cheery goodbye and strode off while I looked toward the end of the platform.  I didn't know Mrs Cameron but there was only one person who matched the description Ma had read out from Uncle Edward's letter.  A short, fair-haired, very neatly dressed lady.  She knew who I was and rushed over and grasped my arm.

     “You're Jacko,” she said, “You're just like your uncle.  I'm Della Cameron.  We're in a bit of a rush.”

     I followed her at a brisk pace.  I was head and shoulders taller than her and she kept turning round to look up at me and smiling.  Outside she got a bit impatient as we had to wait a few minutes for a decrepit taxi-cab.  We ended up outside a small restaurant near the British Museum which was still open for business.  Food was good, even if a bit sparse, and as soon as we had finished we were off.  She said she wouldn't be more than an hour so I could wander around but not to get lost.  Her publisher's office was just off Russell Square which looked more like a military camp with huts, camouflage netting and soldiers with rifles.  I dumped my haversack and suitcase in the hallway to the offices and strolled round and saw the new University of London Senate House, very imposing in its whiteness.  Quite a few people were scurrying in and out who were certainly not students.  I walked into Tottenham Court Road and it was quite eerie. What surprised me was the amount of bomb damage.  I had never seen damage like it before although I had seen pictures of the King and Queen surveying a damaged Buckingham Palace. I ambled back a bit unsettled and a young lady in the office said Mrs Cameron would be ready soon and gave me a cup of tea while I looked at a couple of magazines on a table.  

     Mrs Cameron was all smiles as she said her good byes to the elderly white-bearded man when she came down the stairs.  I was introduced as her soon-to-be nephew and the bearded man shook my hand and asked if I was destined to be an author too.  I said I didn't think so and Mrs Cameron said I was good at languages.  The man asked me, in French, if it was true and I replied in the same language, then switched to German and asked if it wasn't dangerous to work in London.  He raised his shaggy eyebrows and spoke in Spanish.  I smiled and said in French that my mother spoke Spanish as well but I hadn't learned the language, yet.   He laughed and reverted to English.  He shook my hand heartily and said I was to keep in touch!

     We rushed off to the station and caught the train in good time.  On the journey I found out she had started writing children's books when her late husband was stationed in London before the War and now she was also writing short novels for an older audience.  She had just delivered two more manuscripts and had been asked for more.  The train was also crowded like the one in the morning so that was really all the conversation we were able to have.  I stared out of the window and saw first the damage done to the houses and buildings near the railway line as we trundled through the outskirts of London but as we reached the Essex countryside the fields were all golden or had sheep and cattle in them.  What a difference!  The train picked up speed and we passed into Suffolk and drew up at last in Ipswich station.

     Mrs Cameron said she'd arranged for a taxi to meet us and the cab waiting was truly ancient but the driver was a jovial old man who made me sit up front with him and asked if I'd been to Suffolk before.  I was entranced by his wonderful country accent and said I hadn't.  We drove a couple of miles into a village just outside Ipswich near a river and the car stopped in the drive of a large detached house with lots of shrubbery and trees around.  We got out and I helped Mrs Cameron with her bag as well as retrieving my luggage.  The car drove off.  I looked around. All was quiet and seemed very peaceful after the war-damaged London.

     Peace was then shattered as I bent down to pick up my suitcase.  Two whooping figures circled us.  They were almost naked, torn khaki shorts and nothing else, painted faces and bodies streaked with red, blue and yellow paint of some kind, Red Indian head-dresses made from feathers of various kinds and home-made tomahawks in their fists.

     Mrs Cameron took one look at them, looked at my rather startled expression and shook her head.  The figures stopped in front of us, tomahawks raised.

     “Oh God! You two!” she said.  She turned to me.  “You would never imagine that creature is a Sergeant in the OTC at school!”

     That creature, a lad about five inches shorter than me lowered his tomahawk. “Oh, Mummy,” he protested, “Why say that?  We were only welcoming our guest.  Edward said to make him feel welcome as he said when he saw him last he thought he came from India!”

     I laughed. I may be sun-tanned but Uncle Edward was being his usual joking self. And I couldn't really mention the lad had got his continents mixed.

     I stepped forward.  “Greetings chief!” I said, putting out a hand, “I'm Jacko. How about a pow-wow?”

     He smiled a lovely, disingenuous smile discernible even under the smears of bright paint.

     “And I'm Lachlan, chief of the tribe of Cameron.”  He gestured at the much smaller lad by his side.  “And this is Andrew, my faithful servant.”

     The smaller boy jabbed his brother in the ribs with the blade of his tomahawk, which promptly fell off.

     “I am not your servant,” he said in quite a childish treble just beginning to break.  He turned to me and drew out an old-fashioned clay pipe from the waist-band of his shorts.  “I present you with a pipe of peace but you are not to smoke because Edward said you are under sixteen and therefore not permitted to.”

     I wondered what else Uncle Edward had told them about me?

     His mother laughed.  “Now you've been introduced take Jacko upstairs and, you two, get cleaned up ready for supper.”

     The mention of food was enough to galvanise all three of us into action.  My haversack was picked up by the older lad and I carried my suitcase.  The younger one led the way and we ended up in a large, cluttered bed-room with a large double-bed and a smaller bed at the side of the room.  I needed to pee badly so asked where the lav was.  I was directed into an adjoining bathroom and had a most satisfactory piss.  I sauntered back into the bedroom just as the two boys were removing their shorts.  Neither was wearing any pants underneath.  I was greeted with the sight of a small, still only a bit developed cock on the smaller boy and a more hefty object on the older lad.  In fact, because he wasn't very tall his cock looked rather disproportionate in size.  He had quite a halo of very fair hair surrounding the base while the younger one had only a sparse amount of fair hair growing there.

     They ignored me as they were squabbling about who should wash first.  I preempted any decision by saying I would have a quick wash first as I was hot and sticky after the journey.  I then proceeded to strip out of my school uniform and they stood and stared as I took off everything and stood just as naked as them.  I was proud of my brown body and the bourgeoning patch of black hair above my nearly fifteen year old drooping cock.  If, as Uncle Edward had told us, the older lad was sixteen and a half, I was at least five inches taller than him and looked about the same as him in the cock area.  The younger lad was only a couple of months younger than me but was nowhere near my level of development.  His voice was breaking, I had detected that downstairs, but he still had a much younger look about him.  Neither said anything as I took out my wash-bag from my haversack and went back into the bathroom.  I heard lots of whispering as I ran the water - I was being discussed.  I soon finished and smiled at them as I came back into the bedroom.  The younger, smaller one went into the bathroom.  As I opened my suitcase and got out clean underpants, a pair of shorts and a shirt the older one came over.

     “We're glad you came,” he said, “I hope you don't think we're foolish appearing like that but it's boring being here on our own.”

     I turned and looked at his earnest expression.  “Lachlan,” I said, “It was a wonderful welcome, thanks!”  I indicated the clothes I'd prepared.  “Is it OK if I wear shorts too, it's awfully hot.”  He nodded.  “But I don't know about the paint.”  He laughed.  I knew I would like him.

     Andrew came out of the bathroom looking freshly scrubbed as his brother went in.  Without the paint Andrew's golden tan was evident.  He had very fair hair so would never go the colour I was.  He hadn't an ounce of puppy-fat and looked a real little scrapper.  I estimated his height at about four-foot ten which meant I felt like a giant against him.  He watched as I dressed and he slipped on an old Aertex shirt and the khaki shorts, no underpants again.

     “After we've had some food,” he said in his barely controlled voice, “We'll show you our boat.  Can you sail?”

     I said I'd never been in a boat on a river.  His eyes opened wide.

     “We spend all our time on the river when we're here.  Anyway you'll soon learn.  Can you swim?”  I shook my head. “That's OK, we'll teach you.  Edward said you were a landlubber.  Lachs' got his Life-Saving Cert and I'm doing mine next term so can I practice on you?”

     Bloody hell!  Was I to be half-drowned in the process?  I muttered a half-hearted, “Yeah, OK.”  What else had Uncle Edward told them.

     I was now dressed.  He came over and stood in front of me.

     “Just because you're taller than him you mustn't call Lachs short-arse.  He doesn't like it.”  He grinned up at me.  “He thumped the last one who called him that at school so they call him Thumpers now.”

     “And what do they call you?” I asked disingenuously.

     “Thumpers Two,” he said immediately with some pride.  “I don't like being called short-arse, either!”

     I held out a hand, he took it and we shook hands.  “No names, no pack-drill,” I said.  “I'm Jacko, you're Andy and he's Lachs, eh?”

     He smiled.  “Edward really meant you were OK!  And you didn't show us up about Red Indians.  We know where they come from!”

     With that his elder brother emerged from the bathroom also looking much cleaner and tidier.  They were very alike.  Same features, sandy hair, snub noses and very white teeth.

     There was a shout in a woman's voice from below, “Food!”.  Lachlan's shirt and shorts and plimsolls were on in record time.  At the bottom of the stairs I was introduced to Nanny.  I found out later she had been their father's nanny when a boy and had carried on and had raised them - she was the archetypal nanny - motherly, cheerful, but she ruled the boys.  They knew they couldn't get one over her!  Nanny Saunders was now head cook and bottle-washer as she said.  We were shepherded into the dining room where the boys gave little whoops of joy.  “Zepps in a cloud!” sang out Lachlan in a not-quite baritone.

     Sausages, mashed potatoes, gravy and peas - lashings of it.  I had plenty as did the two others. Raspberries to follow, gosh, bliss!  While we ate plans were made for tomorrow.  The boys insisted I should be taught to swim if I was going sailing with them.  Their mother listened with quiet amusement as they argued back and forth.  Andrew may have been the younger but he held his views firmly.  All my fears about meeting two Public Schoolboys were dissipated.  As Ma had said, `Boys will be boys', and from the welcome onwards this was quite true.

     As soon as the meal was over I was urged to hurry up as they wanted to show me their boat.  The river was just a hundred or so yards away from the house.  They had their own mooring and a small boat-house where there was a fine looking small sailing boat.  We wandered along the shore and they pointed out down river where Pinmill was where, so they informed me, before the war there had been many sailing boats.  They said we could go on bikes down to Shotley and have a look at the outside, at least, of HMS Ganges, where the boy sailors trained.  It looked as if I was in for a busy time over the next week!

     I found that the routine of the house was very set.  Mrs Cameron, or Aunt Della as I was told I should call her, worked on her books from nine in the morning to one o'clock and was not to be disturbed.  In the afternoons she ran the local Forces Canteen most days and was on various local committees - a very busy woman.  The boys were supervised by Nanny Saunders but otherwise, so I surmised, were allowed to run wild.  How could they be bored?

     When we got back we played Monopoly for a while but I was pretty tired.  I'd had a long day of travelling so we three went up to bed about nine o'clock.  It was still light and warm so, as usual, I stripped off completely after having had a pee and cleaning my teeth, and climbed into the single bed.  The boys busied themselves in the bathroom and stripped off and got into the double bed.  Of course, they wanted to know more about me and we were trading questions and answers across the four foot gap until Lachlan patted the sheet covering them.

     “Why don't you come in with us, there's plenty of room and we wouldn't have to shout at each other.”

     As we were conversing in loudish whispers this made sense so I took myself and my slight erection over and slid into their bed.

     I was on the outer edge next to Lachlan.

     “Can he get in the middle?  I can't hear!” complained Andrew.

     I rolled over Lachlan and immediately Andrew fastened himself on my side like a young limpet.  He rolled over onto his side facing me and flung a leg over my right leg and entwined it round me.  An arm went under my neck to support him and he started to fire questions into my right ear.  Friends?  What was my school like?  Where did I live?  I answered as many as I could until Lachlan put his hand over me and prodded his brother in the stomach.

     “Shut up, Squirt, it's my turn and anyway he might want to ask us things as well!”

     He wanted to know about my cousins.  I told him I had three in Wales, two in America and one in Switzerland.  He said they had no cousins, both their mother and father had been only children.  He snuggled up closer and as he did so I felt his young prick press against my leg. My dick began to stiffen

     “I'm glad we're going to get some cousins.  Edward said the Welsh ones are huge.”

     I laughed and said they were as Gareth was six foot two and the other two weren't far off.

     Andrew snuggled up closer, I felt his prick rub my other leg.  Whoops!  he had the beginnings of a hardon, too!

     “Wish I was a bit bigger,” he said feelingly, “The doctor said I'm OK though.  He said I should start growing soon.”  As he said this he was rubbing his hardening prick against my leg.  I wondered if he was aware of what he was doing.  One thing was it was making me feel very randy!

     Lachlan took over the conversation.  “Dad wasn't very tall, he was only five foot five and I'll soon be that.”  He poked me in the side and as he did so he wriggled against me.  His prick was getting hard too!  “Edward says when they were at Cambridge they were known as the Tall and Short of it `cause Edward's tall like you'll be.”  He rubbed himself up against me.  “I don't mind being short and I can take care of myself.”  I remembered what Andrew had said earlier and resolved not to mention `short-arse' as I had no wish to be thumped.

     I was getting very hot and bothered, my dick was now fully stiff and stretched up towards my navel.  I daren't touch it as I didn't know what the boys' reaction might be.  They were both fidgeting now.  Two quite stiff cocks were pressed into my legs.  Lachlan's arm was still across me at chest level where he'd poked at Andrew.  Andrew's arm was under my neck and his small hand was clutching at my shoulder.  Lachlan moved his arm down and brushed the end of my dick.  The pressure pushed my foreskin back a bit and my, oh-so-sensitive, glans was gently rubbed.  Oh, my God!  Without any warning I felt the usual subterranean poundings in my groin.  I hurriedly pushed down the single sheet covering us just in time.  My prick jerked of its own accord and I erupted.  Spunk flew from my slit and hit Lachlan's arm and the rest dropped  onto my stomach.  I had shut my eyes tight when this spontaneous discharge started.  My muscles in my stomach and legs went taut and I must have snarled or something with the suddenness of it all.  There was a gasp from both boys and as I opened my eyes two pairs of wide-open eyes were fixed on the puddle of come gathering on my stomach most of which was dripping off Lachlan's arm.  I gathered my breath.
     “Whew!” I said, “I'm sorry about that.  I didn't mean to do that - it just happened.”

     I wasn't prepared for what happened next either.  Two bodies reared up, knelt either side of me and, in what seemed like just a few moments, two new splodges of spunk joined mine. Young Andrew's contribution was watery but matched in volume that of his older brother.  His short stubby prick had fired first and, at least, he could produce spunk.  Lachlan hadn't been far behind, but what impressed me was the size of his cock.  He at least matched me in length, if not a bit more.  I thought, and so he should, he's a year and a half older than me.  He didn't match me in amount of spunk though.

     After unloading they laid down either side of me, again on their sides facing me. Silently I put my finger into the three lots of spunk on me and mixed them.  I put the finger first to my lips and then, replenishing it, I smeared some on Lachlan's lips, then Andrew's. Three tongues licked out, two of them rather tentatively.  There were a few moments more silence.  Things were being weighed up.  Andrew was the first to say anything.

     “Gosh, we were scared of meeting you.  Edward said you were his brainy nephew and we thought you would wear specs and be all clever, not like us.  I'm not very clever and we both have to do extra work at school.  But you're just like us.”

     I reached out and pushed an arm under each of them.  I heaved and the pair of them ended up over my chest and stomach getting liberally coated with cum.

     “Don't worry, I was just as scared at meeting you.  But my mother said we were all boys and that's true, isn't it?  We're friends too now, and soon we'll be cousins as well.  I'm going to like that and I hope you will too!  Anyway, you're cleverer than me, you can sail and swim and I can't!”

     I hugged them closer to me and Lachlan put his hand between us and took up some of the spunk and smeared it on all our lips.  When we had licked it off Andrew did the same.

     “I think we're closer than cousins now.  I think we're brothers!”

     He gave me the most radiant of smiles and I couldn't help it, I kissed both on their foreheads.  They giggled and I joined in.  I said it had been quite an experience and I'd better go to my bed.  This was immediately vetoed as they both insisted there was plenty of room where we were.  They insisted I slept in the middle but first Andrew slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom to fetch a facecloth which I used to mop up the remains of our triple outburst.  I turned on my side with Andrew entwined round the front of me and Lachlan clinging to my back.

                         *
                                               Thursday August 24th 1944

     I was awakened rudely in the morning by Andrew poking me in the side.

     “Come on, Jacko,” he said urgently, “It's nearly six o'clock and we don't want to miss the tide.”

     The tide?  What's that?  Where am I?  I shook my head.  I was stiff - and it certainly wasn't in the cock area!  I was still on my side but both boys were up and pulling on their disreputable shorts and grubby shirts.

     “We should have been up half an hour ago to get the run of the tide properly,” explained Andrew rather incomprehensibly, “But if we hurry we can make the best of the run that's left.”

     Groggily, I got out of bed.  I was distinctly smelly.  I had traces of dried spunk on my belly and in my pubic hair.  I picked up the corduroy shorts I had worn the evening before as I obviously wasn't going to be allowed to wash.

     Andrew was in charge. He shook his head.  “I shouldn't wear those - you'll probably fall in and get wet.  Haven't you got some old ones?”

     Fortunately I'd packed two pairs of running shorts so I fished out the older pair and held them up.

     “They'll do,” stated Andrew crisply, “Put a shirt and pullover on, then come on!”

     As I pulled my shorts on, sans underpants, I noted Lachlan had already disappeared.  I slipped on shirt, a pullover and my plimsolls and tied good strong bows.  Andrew was waiting impatiently and was off down the stairs as soon as I was ready.  I rushed after him and followed him to the boathouse where Lachlan was getting the boat on the last stages before hitting the water.

     “Get in,” he commanded me, throwing what turned out to be a life-jacket at me.

     Luckily I managed to get in without capsizing the boat as they manhandled it into the water and deftly clambered over the side after putting their own life-jackets on.  I was instructed to keep my head down and to move over to the side when commanded, otherwise to sit centrally.  And, if I fell in I wouldn't sink but I was to do nothing until they pulled me ashore!  It was also explained that the tide was coming up-river so it was a good time to take the boat towards Ipswich and then sail down before the tide turned too much or we might be swept down river out to sea and end up being shot at!  Actually, landlubber me, was finding it all rather exciting.

     I did exactly as told on the journey upstream and was even rewarded with `Good' a few times.  Andrew kept up a steady stream of explanation of what was going on while Lachlan hauled on bits of rope and generally did what I considered to be the donkey work.  We tacked - a term I learned very quickly - from side to side to take advantage of the slight breeze but used the tide rush mainly to carry us almost through the Ipswich docks.  The boys must have been frequent visitors because numerous workers on the dockside hailed us and shouted out things like “Keep both eyes open, Nelson!”, “Rule Britannia!” and “The Navy's here!”.  We waved back and everyone seemed happy to see us.

     We bobbed about a bit when Lachlan said that was as far as we were going today.  He then turned the boat very skilfully and, although the tide was still coming up river, we sailed back down again, but much more slowly.  I then realised that Andrew was doing his bit too as he was handling the rudder and helping to steer.  Not knowing anything about the niceties at this stage,  I was, however, very taken with the expertise of the two lads.  Only once did we misjudge the direction of the wind and I had to move very sharply to balance the tipping of the boat and ducked so as not to be decapitated by the swinging boom.  I got a special `Good' for that!  Perhaps, I was going to enjoy learning to sail.

     When we arrived back at the mooring I felt very exhilarated.  I managed to disembark without tipping the boat.  I did get my feet wet as I helped them pull the boat up.  There was then a post-mortem between the two boys on how their skills could be improved.  Andrew seemed to be the one who knew what was needed.  So, three hungry lads went into the kitchen for breakfast.  Although it was mid-summer Nanny Saunders knew that porridge was the answer and I had two huge bowlfuls.  The lads only had one each so I said that if they were intent on growing they'd better stoke up.  When Nanny Saunders went out of the kitchen I whispered that they ought to eat plenty of porridge as it put hairs on your chest, that's what my father said!

     After breakfast Nanny Saunders pointed upstairs and we obeyed smartly and went up to wash and tidy ourselves.  Gosh, it was only just after nine o'clock and I'd had a day's worth of fun already!  What next.?  Next was going on bikes to a farm to collect milk and eggs.  Again, the boys were warmly welcomed.  This time by the farmer's wife, and I was introduced as their new soon-to-be cousin.  Before leaving we roamed the farm yard and saw where the cows were milked and the churns ready for the next day.  Lachlan said we would come down early one morning to see the cows being milked.  Early?  Half-past five!  I thought I was an early riser going for my runs before seven o'clock but here in the country I was told most people were at work by six a.m.  That passed most of the morning and I was told my first swimming lesson would take place in the afternoon once my lunch had settled.

     Lunch was a delicious thick soup and I knew I gladdened Nanny Saunders' heart as I had three bowlfuls, plus three great hunks of bread.  If I was going to rush about so much I needed sustenance!

     Mrs Cameron, I mean Aunt Della, appeared just as we were finishing and asked me if I was being well looked after.  What could I say?  I was enjoying myself immensely and said so.  I also said I was rather apprehensive about learning to swim.  The boys laughed but Aunt Della said they had to be careful.  The tide was dangerous at times and we were not to go anywhere other than the pool at the bend. They nodded.

     We spent the afternoon in the water.  I learned straight away why no underpants.  All clothes were stripped off before they jumped into the water.  They said if I was in the boat and fell out I was to kick off my shorts and plimsolls immediately.  In fact, I wasn't to have laces in my plimsolls so they would come off more easily.  I gingerly approached the water in the pool.  This was an expanse of water where clay had been dug away and a still pond had been formed which filled and emptied with the tide but was safe for swimming in.  As it belonged in the grounds of the house it was private and as we were the only ones to use it there was no need for any swim trunks.

     The boys let me dog paddle for a bit then they said I had to put my head under water.  It took a little while to get the hang of it and the pair of them kept diving under to demonstrate how easy it was.  In the end, I took the plunge, as it were, held my breath and I was under.  I was soon up but after about twenty tries I was a bit more confident.  Of course, the pair of them were swimming round me like a pair of eels.  The water was no more than waist deep for me with the state of the tide so I essayed a few tentative attempts at lifting my feet off and floating.  At once, the pair of them positioned themselves either side of me and I was supported as I floated on the surface.  I was OK until I realised they had let me go!  After that we played around with me trying to catch them and they trying to unbalance me by grabbing my legs.  In the end we rolled out on the grassy bank and dried ourselves in the sun.

     It was question time again.  They wanted to hear all about me and the cousins a second time.  Then me and my friends.  I asked what a Sergeant in the OTC had to do as it sounded suspiciously like a Henry Gale post.  I found that as the majority of boys from the school went into the forces, mainly the Army, they had an Officer Training Corps, which was a bit more intensive that our Cadet Corps.  In fact they paraded every day and changed into uniforms even after Games.  Lachlan said he'd been promoted Sergeant a few weeks ago just before the annual camp.  He said Andrew was still only a squaddie.

     “Huh!” said Andrew, “You only got those stripes `cause you were Bradley's bumboy last camp!”

     Having realised what he'd said he looked at me.  Lachlan lunged at his brother.

     “Who is Bradley?” I asked before Lachlan could annihilate his brother who had rolled away quickly.

     “He's a senior Officer Cadet,” panted out Andrew as Lachlan reached him and pinned him down. “He's in the Sixth Form, big and ginger-haired, thick as two planks and got a cock like a horse, eh Lachs?”

     The “You should know!” finishing that was implied was stifled by a hand over Andrew's mouth.  Andrew was not to be beaten.  The eel-like movements evidenced in the water were repeated on dry land.  He evaded his brother's grasp.

     “Seniors have their own tents and have a batman,” he panted out, wriggling away from a pursuing Lachlan, “Lachs was his last year, weren't you?  He likes them little and blond, eh?”

     Andrew was caught and pinned down again, still not very effectively.  I slid over the grass to be nearer.  More revelations came.

     “Sibs told me he'd heard them in the tent.  Bradley was smacking his arse!”

     “Wasn't doing anything,” muttered Lachlan, “I had to polish his brasses and blanco his belt and puttees and I didn't do it right, so shut up!”

     “Sibs said you were laughing and enjoying it!” continued the irrepressible Andrew.

     “Shut up, I said, he tickled me as well!”

     Andrew was giggling and so was I.  “Sibs said he wondered what he was tickling you with!”

     “Bloody Sibs!  Wait until I see him next term!”

     I loomed over the pair and easily parted them.  I stood up and lifted Lachlan up bodily away from Andrew who wriggled away and sat up.  I knelt down and a bare-arsed Lachlan was draped over my knee.

     “Was it like this?” I said and slapped a muscular buttock.  Andrew was nearly crying with laughter watching me.  “Or, like this?”  I let go of him and tickled down both sides of him.  He flailed about, legs and arms flying and almost whacking me between the legs.  Before he could damage me I dropped him on the ground and started to tickle his sides again. He rolled over facing me - a very wrong move as I now moved to his vulnerable ribs.   “And who is Sibs?” I asked.

     Lachlan couldn't answer as he was laughing too much and Andrew was almost incoherent with mirth a well but he did manage to stutter out, “He he, Sibs is his best friend, isn't he Lachs, they share a room.  Sibs is just like Billy Bunter, fat and jolly and he's ever so funny.  Tells me all about him `cause he says he needs to be kept an eye on as Bradley keeps sending for him.”

     I thought I'd better give up tickling Lachlan as he was sweating and out of breath.

     “Pax,” I said and knelt away from him.
     He was too exhausted to retaliate straight away but I knew retribution would come somehow and sometime.

     Andrew slid across the grass.  “Thanks,” he said to me, “He's always getting me down and tickling me.  We can get him now, can't we?”

     I said we would not be fighting his battles, he had to fight his own.  Lachlan held up a hand and I shook it.  I told them then about Tom and his brother and how Tom, as big as he was, hadn't got the better of his brother yet.  I said I might help because Dunc had tied me up and I needed to get my own back.  I said about Matt and his trip to Fensham and how he had warmed Dunc's balls.  All this caused three nude lads to sprout hardons.  Odd, we were not at all embarrassed by this even though we had only met the day before. I suppose the occasion last night and the fact we had spent most of the afternoon nude together were reasons.  Lachlan was eying my cock and Andrew must have sen him sizing it up.

     “Bet his isn't bigger than Bradley's, eh Lachs?  Sibs said you had a ruler in the tent one day!”

     Lachlan made another grab for his brother and scragged him round the neck.  It was Andrew's turn to be tickled and I just sat and laughed.

     “Bloo-dy... ...Sibs,” said Lachlan, between delivering a series of tickles to Andrew's heaving ribs, “That... was... for measuring.... distances... on the map! So there!”

     That “So there” was delivered with a finality and a flurry of tickles all the way down Andrew's body with a final slap at his erect four and a half inches.

     “Ouch!” he said, as he recovered his breath, “That hurt!”

     “Oh no it didn't, you just liked it!”

     “And did you slap Bradley's with the ruler when you measured it?

     “Will you shut up about Bradley's cock.  He's not like a horse. It's not even six inches....”

     Andrew and I rolled on the grass in hysterics.  So....., Sibs was correct.  Map-measuring wasn't the only measuring done.

     I sat up, panting.  “And I bet you beat him, eh?”

     Lachlan grinned, then nodded and mouthed “And you!”.  I stuck my hand out again.

     “Congratulations to both of us!”

     We all three then fell about laughing.

     There wasn't any urgency about having a wank at this moment.  I would have liked one as I was quite aroused but we weren't quite at that stage of involvement yet.  The unintended confession about Bradley was a step which showed that Lachlan had had some sort of experience with others.   I didn't know about Andrew yet.   Last night's display was pretty conclusive evidence that the brothers had played about together.  In some ways Andrew  seemed more ready to discuss or make statements.  Was this just youthful exuberance, or naivety because he knew little about what boys did or could do?  I knew Andrew would use the admission of involvement with Bradley to his advantage.  I had to make sure it wouldn't be to Lachlan's detriment though.

     Andrew said he was hungry so we'd better go and see if Nanny had any tea for us.  She had and after eating it was back out and down to the river.  The tide was rising again and they pointed out the way the water rushed upriver against the flow coming down and how one had to watch this carefully. Time passed quickly as all this was new to me.

     At supper their mother wanted to know what we'd been doing and was most amused at my description of trying to learn to swim.  Again, we played Monopoly and off to bed at nine.

     I was both exhilarated and tired.  A happy sort of tiredness.  Andrew was full of beans still.  I was last to strip off and clean myself up in the bathroom and as I came back into the bedroom an equally nude Andrew leapt onto my back like a young monkey and clung there overbalancing me.  Lachlan laughed.

     “It's your turn to put up with him,” he said, “Come on, though, I'll give you a hand.”

     He stepped over and hauled at the clinging lad.  Between us we got him flat on the floor and held him down and tickled him until he cried `Pax' as well.  I bent over him and lifted him bodily off the floor.  He clung round my neck.

     “Come on, Flea,” I said, “It's time for all little boys like you to be in bed.”

     I tipped him onto the double-bed and pushed him towards the centre and got into the bed next to him.  Lachlan scuttled round the other side and climbed in too.

     To say I was horny was the under-statement of the century.  Also, while we were tickling Andrew I noted his cock was plumping up a bit.  Right, I thought, here goes!

     I started by leaning towards Andrew and licking his ear, darting my tongue in and then sucking on his lobe.  He squirmed and giggled.  I moved my tongue down his neck and licked him hard under the chin.  I knew this made Matt doubly randy and, sure enough, Andrew gasped and squirmed even more.  I swept my tongue like a human Bran down onto his chest and began to suck avidly on his left nipple while rubbing a finger in and out of his belly button.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Lachlan was watching intently and licking his lips.  His hand was on Andrew's thigh and his fingers were opening and closing, gripping and releasing the taut young muscles.  Lachlan was also a randy young being from the looks of it.

     I moved my head up and began to lick under Andrew's chin again and at the same time pushed my hand down his belly and gripped his fully erect prick.  I couldn't see what I was doing but I pulled down sharply and his foreskin must have been a bit tight as he squealed and began to make a bit of noise.  To shut him up I clamped my mouth over his and began to wank him in earnest.  Gosh, he was in a frenzy.  His little hips were arched in the bed as he thrust his short, thick cock into my fist.  His tongue was pushed into my mouth and I was matching my breathing with his rasping gasps.  There was a final heave and he shot his load.  I pulled back even more sharply and felt a warm rain spatter all over my back which was over him. He collapsed back on the bed, eyes closed, mouth open wide, a look between extreme pain and extreme ecstasy on his face.

     “Unnnnnnnnn,” he murmured, as he got his breath back.  Next thing he'd flung his arms round my spunk-spattered back and he was clinging to me again weeping and kissing my cheeks at the same time.  “Oh, Jacko,” he snivelled, “That was lovely..., Oh, Oh, Oh!.....”   His body arched against me again and more spunk shot from his still rampant cock.  I saw Lachlan put a hand out onto his shoulder,  massaging it gently.

     “Are you OK, Andy?” he asked.

     Andrew clung even tighter to me and sniffed.  “Yes, I'm OK.  What was that?” he panted out, “Oh gosh!”  His thighs jerked against me, his prick, still hard, dug into me.  I massaged his back too.

     “You're OK Andy,” I whispered, “You've just found out what boys can do!”

     He kissed my cheeks again and I moved my head and kissed him full on the lips. And he stayed there as I gently licked across those prominent young swellings.  Slowly he let go of me and looked straight into my eyes with his wide-open innocent eyes.

     “Thanks Jacko, I've learned that...   I didn't want it to end.”

     Ever-efficient Lachlan slid off the bed behind me and went to the bathroom and returned with a facecloth.

     “My brother seems to have left some sort of deposit,” he said, giggling and wiping my back at the same time, “Messy child, he dribbles in bed too!”

     A half-hearted swipe at his brother by Andrew missed and landed on my chest.

     “Hey, Flea!” I said in a mock angry tone. “I've just made you happy and you hit me!”

     He leaned over and bit me gently on the shoulder.

     “I'm your Flea, and there's a little bite to prove it.  Now it's Lachlan's turn.”

     I was quite taken aback by this last statement.  It showed just how much the brothers really cared for each other.  Andrew had been raised to heights of supreme joy and now he considered it was Lachlan's turn.  We shuffled round in the bed and I was soon licking and nibbling at Lachlan while Andrew kept him fairly quiet by pressing his mouth over Lachlan's but still at an angle to watch what I was doing.

     Lachlan by now wasn't far off his orgasm so I feathered his hefty dick with rapid movements of my fingers - movements that Alun had said were like playing the flute!  His foreskin was also a bit tight but as I pulled it down his knob stood out, fleshy and proud and dark red against his golden tan.  His spunk came out in a small torrent, spurting up to his chest and dropping onto his stomach.  Both Andrew and I then licked at his cheeks and up into his eyes a he regained his composure.  The facecloth was wielded this time by Andrew whose look of sheer love at his brother was so evident.

     By this time I was thinking that if anyone just so much as touched my prick I would explode.  The boys looked at each other and with military precision I was now in the middle and the two then set about me with the meticulousness as befitted two young soldiers.  I was subjected to a joint attack from both flanks!  They copied my movements and actions and I was licked and nibbled while my cock had two hands on it alternating top and bottom halves.  One bonus was the exploration of my balls which were like two walnuts drawn up at the base of my cock.  I think that set the usual feelings off.  A tug downwards on my foreskin meant my rod was at a suitable elevation for firing a long-range salvo.  It did.  What left my slit wasn't a dribble, it wasn't a spurt, it wasn't even a more-than healthy squirt  - it was a jet - but not just one stream, but four mighty ropes of white boycream which went over my head and splattered on the wooden bed-head.  Two further smaller squirts landed on me.  Even in all my experience over the year I had never produced so much, nor given such a display.  The boys looked at me open-eyed and open-mouthed.  They literally goggled at me, their jaws dropped.

     “Oh fuck me!” was the first response, from Lachlan, who then clapped his hand over his mouth. Swearing was not really for him.  But this was an exceptional circumstance. Andrew was staring at the headboard.  I wriggled around a bit to see for myself.  Four strands of my spunk were slowly running down the polished surface. I grinned at Andrew.

     “You'll be able to do that soon!  But you'd better clean it up for me.”

     There was much giggling as the sticky strands were mopped and smeared.  Lachlan took over.  He took the face-cloth to the bathroom and rinsed it out and managed to make the head-board presentable again.

     “I'll polish it in the morning,” he said finally as he dropped the damp cloth onto my chest.  “You'll have to clean up anything you do in future.”  I wiped my chest.  “And you,” he pointed at Andrew, “If you aim that bloody Howitzer again, keep the trajectory low. Remember the rules Captain Harrison gave us!”

     Three hilariously happy boys rolled into and over one another clutching and clinging and rubbing their bodies against one another.  We lay still after a while and I was soon asleep snuggled up with Lachlan against my front and Andrew with his arm over my shoulder at my back.

                         *
     I was awoken next morning by gentle bites on my shoulder.

     “Come on,” said an urgent voice in my ear as the biting continued, “You've got fleas! Get up, we're off in a few minutes.”

     It was one Flea biting me while Lachlan was whispering in my ear.  I woke quickly to find they were already dressed - if you call tatty shorts, shirts, grubby pullovers and lace-less plimsolls dressed.

     “Come on, you've had half an hour's more sleep than yesterday - tide alters each day so we can get up to Ipswich again easily.”

     I dressed quickly.  Made easier by the fact that Andrew had removed my shoelaces for me.  I was quite adept today in getting into the boat as Lachlan shoved us into deeper water.  It was his turn to man the rudder while Andrew was hoisting and dealing with the sails.  We were soon going up river.  Andrew was very quick in his reactions to the differing conditions and it didn't seem long before the cries from the dockside began again.  “Watch it lads,” was one cry, “The Jerries are landing!”  “No!” came another, “It's the Queen Mary!”  “Or the Titanic,” called out a third, “Watch out for icebergs on your way back!”  We gave them all a cheery wave and Andrew deftly turned the boat and we were off again.  There was quite a breeze today so the boat needed some expert handling but we arrived safe and sound back at the mooring.  Lachlan was full of praise for his young brother and I added that I didn't feel seasick at all.  All I got in reply was Andrew sticking out his tongue.

     The day followed the pattern of the day before.  My swimming lesson lasted longer and I managed more than a few strokes before I chickened out and my feet hit the bottom.  A lot of the time was spent lying in the sun and exchanging bits of our life histories.  I wanted to know who Sibs was properly.

     “Hector Charles Augustus Sibley,” announced Andrew sententiously, “Quartermaster Sergeant, Officer Cadet Training Battalion, fair, fat and seventeen and never been kissed -”  He looked across at Lachlan “- except by his mother - and him!”

     Lachlan made a dive for Andrew and there was the usual brief struggle with a giggling Andrew soon being held down by an enraged brother.

     “Don't you dare spread that rumour!  I didn't kiss him.  We were rehearsing that Shakespeare play and I had to play the girl's part.”

     “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” yodelled out Andrew,   “Potty saw you give him a real smacker - and he cuddled you!”

     “Potterton's the liar,” said Lachlan stretching out Andrew's arms and lying across him, “Just `cause he fancies you!”  He yanked at Andrew's arms.  “And where were you when Potty said that?  In his tent I expect.  Shall I get you a mug of tea, Sergeant Potterton?”  The last was said in a real namby-pamby voice.

     Andrew just laughed.  “Potty's good fun.  He says you're much too serious and you ought to give old Sibs a good time `cause he's aching for it.  I don't know what he means but that's what he said!”

     I guessed what he meant.  Perhaps Andrew might learn over the coming week - oh, did I say `coming' week?  But Lachlan wasn't finished.  He wasn't angry, just confused.  His good name had been impugned with unimaginable sins.  I stepped in and changed the subject.

     “Where on earth did Sibs get all those names?”

     The situation was immediately defused.  Lachlan rolled off his brother and the pair sat up side by side.

     “His Dad's Charles and he's a Brigadier in the Indian Army and one grandfather was Sir Hector Fair- something or other, and his other grandfather was an architect or something and his name was Augustus.  I know all that because everyone keeps asking him.  He's fed-up with all his names and gets really ratty if anyone calls him Hector.”
     “I call him Hector,” said Andrew very sweetly.

     “Butter wouldn't melt in your mouth,” said Lachlan with a hint of exasperation.  “He sucks up to all my friends and they think he's wonderful and wouldn't it be nice to have a brother like him instead of their usual tribe of scabby brothers or catty sisters.  Yeah, Potty said that when we were coming back from camp this time.  How nice to have a polite, well-spoken brother, I wish mine were like him.  I nearly said I'd sell him to him for half-a-crown.”

     “Nearly?” I queried.

     Lachlan was too open to hold any grudges.  “I might sell him next time.”   He turned to his brother and gripped him just above the knee.  Andrew squealed and squirmed.  “I don't want you saying any more things `cause I shall be in the Sixth Form next term.”

     I didn't enquire if he'd passed School Cert.  No mention had been made of it so I wondered.  He then said he'd heard he'd passed four subjects so hadn't got a full School Cert but he had enough to apply for the military college at Sandhurst if he did OK in the Sixth Form as he wanted to follow in his late father's footsteps when he was eighteen.  Andrew then said he would probably try for the Air Force as he wouldn't mind learning how to fly and Lachs only wanted to go to Sandhurst as Bradley was going there next term and they could share a tent again. A slight fracas ensued until I said I hadn't made up my mind what I wanted to do.  I didn't want to be an engineer or do law, I liked Maths and I liked languages.  Their faces were a picture.  Someone who liked Maths?  I was the brainy nephew, no doubt about that!

     Any superiority on anyone's part was soon forgotten.  I heard more about their school and the Officer Cadet training. They were intrigued when I also said I could play the piano.  There was one in the drawing-room but they said it needed to be tuned.  I didn't say too much about my rather extensive sexual experiences as I didn't know, yet, how they might take that information on board.  Gosh I was getting nautical!

     Bedtime that night was something of a revelation to me.  They'd obviously discussed tactics when I was out of the way.  They worked in tandem . I was in the middle and both started from ears downwards.  I was squirming with the ecstasy of it and as two hands manipulated my cock I was soon shooting my load, tonight onto my stomach!  I leaned over and kissed both on their foreheads and they both had satisfied grins on their faces.  Satisfied?  I wasn't finished with them so when I'd mopped up after Lachlan handed me a cleaned-up face cloth I thought I'd take procedures a notch further.  From what I had gathered that afternoon during our conversation was the impression that either Bradley had tossed off Lachlan, or it might have been the other way round, it wasn't clear.  I didn't think Andrew had tossed off anyone else other than his brother before I appeared on the scene. So, things were ripe for another lesson!  They might be experts in sailing, but....

     I turned to Andrew first and he moved into the middle of the bed.  As Lachlan watched I began to lick and nuzzle him.  He responded as the night before with moans and gurgles which dear Lachlan stifled with his mouth.  I licked steadily downwards, repositioning myself in the bed when I reached just under his belly button.  I moved down and turned until I was at the bottom of the bed between his legs which I parted.  His stiff little rod was lying straight up his belly.  I put my head down and licked at his tight sac.  He gasped as Lachlan had raised his head to get a better look at what I was doing.  His balls were still quite small and I probed them gently with my tongue then, putting my mouth over his sac, I sucked on them and closed my mouth over them.  I felt his legs tremble either side of my head.  I spent a couple of minutes sucking and licking and I felt the young balls roll under my tongue inside their casing.  I then opened my mouth and tongued the root of his penis where it came away from his ball sac.  I then tongued along the short length of his prick following that softer part in the base, pressing against it with a firm, constant force.   When I reached the end I took the whole of his shaft into my mouth, first of all pushing his foreskin down releasing his knob end.  This was acorn-shaped and had quite a prominent ridge which I followed round with the tip of my tongue.  By this time the lad was beating a regular tattoo on the mattress with his fists while Lachlan, watching carefully, muffled his throaty cries by holding his own mouth wide open and pressed against his brother's.  I sucked on his cock and at the same time found that piece of skin attaching the foreskin to the ridge on the underside.  I whipped my tongue across that as fast as I could.  Andrew's hips left the bed and several squirts of sweet-tasting boy-juice flooded my mouth.  There wasn't a great deal so I was able to swallow most quite easily but my tongue was coated.  I slid up his body, his sticky rod leaving a trail on me.  Lachlan saw me coming up and raised his head.  I took his place by clamping my lips onto Andrew's and forced my tongue in and gave him back some of his spunk.  Lachlan tapped me on the shoulder.

     “Some for me, please,” he whispered.

     There wasn't much left, but I turned my head and we tongue-fucked for a few moments as the last of Andrew's remaining young seed passed to his brother.

     Andrew was still panting and, I think starry-eyed, as I rolled over to be on the other side of Lachlan.  Needless to say his bigger, saggier balls filled my mouth more and within moments of me tonguing that secret skin on his ridge he gushed his warm semen into my mouth and throat.  His was much thicker and saltier than his brother's.  I did the same again with him.  His mouth was open, ready, and as my tongue went into his mouth he put his arms round me and hugged me tightly.  He licked my tongue rather than the other way round.  I raised my head.

     “Andrew.....,” I said and he met my mouth before I could say more.

     I went to sleep on my back hugging both brothers.

     That's funny I thought.  It was dark and something had woken me.  The boys had rolled away from me and I had turned on my side.  I listened carefully.  There was a noise like an ill-tuned motor-bike, but much louder.  Suddenly there was the sound of gun-fire, then silence, during which two startled boys had woken, turned and clung onto me.  Silence, and then an almighty `Crump' a distance away.

     “Fucking Doodle-bug!” said a clearly frightened Lachlan.

     “It was, wasn't it?” said an equally frightened Andrew, who was attached to my front like a limpet.
     “It's OK,” I said, more intrigued than frightened, “They must have hit it.”

     Very faintly the noise started again and got a bit louder.  The guns opened up again.

     “That's the shore battery at Landguard Fort or Harwich,” said Andrew in my ear.  “I hope they don't miss!”

     The firing stopped and so did the noise.  A second distant explosion came.

     “That sounded towards Harwich,” said Andrew, “I hope it's on a field somewhere.”

     There was a tap on the door.  It was their mother.  We were covered with a sheet OK.

     “Are you alright in there?” she asked, opening the door.

     “Don't switch the light on, Mummy,” called out Lachlan, “We haven't got the blackout curtains drawn!”

     I don't think she saw we were all in the same bed.

     “I wondered what on earth it was, so I've got in with them!”  I called out just in case.

     “Good idea,” she said.  “They don't usually come as far as this but if there's more you'd better get up and go down to the cellar!”

     A third series of bangs from anti-aircraft guns stopped any more conversation.  Three boys scrabbled for clothes in the dark and followed the retreating figures, as Nanny Saunders was on the landing as well, down the stairs and further down into a capacious cellar.  When in there Mrs Cameron struck a match and lit several candles.  Both the ladies were in voluminous dressing-gowns.  Three boys were in an assortment of garments.  I had found my shorts and a shirt.  Andrew had wound the sheet round him while Lachlan had slipped his legs into the arms of my large pullover and was holding the wide opening tightly round his chest while clutching at the neck opening so his dangling genitalia weren't visible.  At least we had something to laugh about as a third and then a fourth distant explosion occurred.  We covered ourselves with blankets and sat in almost silence for about half an hour.  There were no more explosions of any sort so Mrs Cameron suggested we went back to bed.

     “If it's not too crowded you'd better be all together.  Lachlan, make sure Jacko and Andrew are comfortable.”

     Of course it would be better to be in bed together.  We had already found that out.  From now on we wouldn't have to rumple the sheets on my single bed in the mornings!

     Andrew was still a bit edgy as we went back to bed but Lachlan and I put him between us and said we would smother him before the Jerries got him and cut his balls off.  We slept in the next morning because it was nearly seven when I woke and the other two were still asleep.  I prodded them awake as Aunt Della said there was milk and other things to collect from the farm this morning.

     It was their turn to be bleary-eyed and I didn't think it was just lack of sleep over the Doodle-bug rockets.  They'd both had a very, very new, very, very intense experience last night as well.  We washed, dressed and had breakfast and then started our day.  It was a bit cloudy, but still warm so it was decided that after getting the things from the farm we would cycle down to Shotley.  Lachlan said we might see where the Doodlebugs exploded after they were shot down.

     We were lucky.  We came round a bend in the road and saw several people standing in a field.  There was an Army lorry parked up against the hedge.  We stopped and a soldier by the lorry said we could go and have a look but not to get too close.  There were two or three boys of about our age already quite near the huge crater in the ground.  They were eager to tell us they lived quite near in the next village and had been woken by the sound of this one being shot at.  It had been the first of the night.  They said the others were further over, Harwich way.  It was a hole!  And near it, being guarded by two soldiers, was the tail part of the rocket with a huge tube attached.  I remembered having seen a drawing of one in the newspaper and realised that this was the rocket part.  Lachlan nodded as I told him that and the boys listening were impressed as well with my knowledge.  “How does it work?” one of them asked.  Here my expertise deserted me for a moment until I remembered it had said under the drawing that fuel was burnt in the rocket bit and this pushed the thing along.  They looked even more impressed.

     After this bit of excitement we set off again and reached Shotley.  The first thing I noticed was the tall mast with its ropes and out-stretched arms.  Lachlan explained that when the boys were there before the War they had to get up on the mast at big parades and one boy had to stand on the small round platform at the top and he was called the `Button Boy'.  One thing I did not want to do was join the Navy if they had to do things like that!  Something to tell Matt!  After that we cycled on a bit further, but they said we couldn't go onto the shore by the river here as it was mined in case we got invaded.

     I said I hadn't seen the sea since before the war so Lachlan said we would cycle to Felixstowe one day next week and I could look at the sea there.  That evening after supper I found a local map and saw that Felixstowe was on the coast the other side of the river.  There was no bridge marked and it seemed a long way round to go to Ipswich first.  When I pointed this out to Lachlan he said what did I think boats were made for?  Cross the river, moor up and cycle through the lanes to Felixstowe.  Daft me!

     Lots of news when we got home.  Mrs Cameron and Nanny were discussing the fact that the French had entered Paris which they had heard on the BBC News but, for us boys, the exciting bit of news was that Uncle Edward was coming for lunch next day on Sunday.  He was at Colchester dealing with a case and would come by train in the morning to Ipswich.

     That night in bed there was a whole new experience again.  As soon as we got into bed Andrew wanted to suck me but I said it was better to do things slowly and we could do it all together.  After we had roused each other to the usual pre-firing frenzy I guided two heads, one, Andrew's, to my rearing cock and the other, Lachlan's, to his brother's young stubby.  I sought out Lachlan's mighty monster and for the next fifteen minutes or so the only sounds were of quiet lapping and licking and then long drawn out moans as three loads of spunk were unloaded within minutes of each other.  Finally three heads met and tongues exchanged remains.

     “I wondered what it would be like, all that stuff,” said Andrew in a whisper.  “I was a bit scared `cause you make lots don't you?  I couldn't keep it all in, some of it's come out on you.”  The tip of his tongue feathered my bottom lip. “It tastes funny but nice, doesn't it?”

     “Yours does, too,” whispered his brother, “It's odd, it's quite sweet-tasting.”

     Lachlan's spunk had tasted very much like Alun's or Rhys's.  Thick in texture, creamy and with a salty sweetness.

     I whispered that I had tasted quite a few boys' spunk.  As I said this there was a slight movement by both.  Surprise?  I quickly went on to say that as boys got older their spunk tasted different.  I thought early on it had a sweeter taste than when they were older where it was more salty.  They took a moment or two to digest this.

     “How many boys have you done it to like this?” Lachlan asked.

     “Is it many?”  Piped up Andrew.

     How many?  Quick!  There's Matt, Mike, Tom, Alun, Rhys, Gareth, Tony, Roo, Nobbo..., and young Sam Catt had done it to me.  Were there others?  I would have to check my diary.

     “I think it's about nine others,” I said.

     Andrew gasped.  “And what about other things?”

     Other things, at the moment, must mean wanking someone else.
     “That's over thirty.”

     There was a gasp from both of them.

     “Who?” asked Lachlan.

     Who? when? and where?  I would be all night recounting each new one!

     “I'll tell you sometime.  Don't you want to go to sleep now?”

     No they did not!  To celebrate the fact that Jerry Doodlebugs meant they had a valid reason for all being together two smaller horny boys made the bigger horny boy toss them both off in quick succession and then they nuzzled and tweaked and bit and wanked the bigger horny boy into a state of total submission to any demands they might make on his body now, tomorrow, or forever in the future.  Three cum-spattered, un-mopped, un-horny boys snuggled together - the bigger boy with his arms protectively round both the smaller ones.  Fuck any Doodlebugs! Tonight or any other night!

                              *
     Sunday morning we went for another cycle ride as Mrs Cameron wanted us out of the house which had to be tidied for Uncle Edward's visit and there was also lunch to cook.  This time we went through several little villages inland.  We were back by twelve and there was Uncle Edward ensconced, as I had seen him before recently, in a deckchair, with a glass in hand.  The two boys rushed to him and stood either side looking very solemn.  Uncle Edward looked them both over, ignored them and greeted me effusively as I appeared in the background and stood in front of him.

     “Hallo, Jacko,” he said, waving the half-empty glass, “Long time no see, as one disappointed parson said to another!”

     What the hell was he on about?

     “And how have this pair of tatterdemalion rapscallions been treating you?  Haven't led you too far astray with their tales of derring-do at that military corrective establishment of theirs.  They have to lock them in twenty-four hours a day or the monsters'll kill each other bare-handed, eh?”  He grinned at the two unlikely-looking monsters. “How are you, lost your tongues? Unusual!”

     “Oh, Edward,” said Lachlan with a hint of desperation, “We were all ready to greet you nicely and you ignored us!  You said last time when we were in our uniforms we would look good as mantelpiece ornaments except there wasn't much call for Kitchener look-alikes at the moment and now we are tatter-something or others!”

     “Tatterdemalion is quite true,” I said, having met the word as one of Huggy's favourites when reviewing untidy work or untidy boys.  “And they've tried to drown me....  Twice,” I added.

     Andrew stepped back and gave me a thump on the thigh.

     “We thought you'd be on our side, but you're fraternizing with the enemy!” he said through the side of his mouth.

     The boys were obviously very used to Uncle Edward's brand of humour.  We all laughed and the boys then vied with each other to say all the things - almost all the things - we'd done since my arrival, finishing up by saying I wasn't the big, fat, spotty, four-eyed, bookworm snob he'd said I was!  Uncle Edward held his hands, and empty glass now, up in horror.  His chickens were coming home to roost!  I laughed, putting on as nasty a laugh as I could.

     “You're very lucky I know you,” I said, wagging my finger at him,  “You've got your other nephews in trouble in the past with what you've said so I know what you're like.  And...”  Here I pointed at the two lads, “..You've encouraged these monsters here to do me in...”  The lads looked at me in bewilderment.  I wasn't finished.  “It's OK,” I said, “We've had a marvellous time!....”   I stepped forward.  “May I get you another drink?  You look as if you need it!”
     “Hoist with my own petard!” was his answer as he handed me the glass.

     I went indoors and found the ladies busy in the kitchen.  I told them Uncle Edward was being his usual self and they laughed.  His glass was replenished with whisky and a dash of soda and I asked if I could do anything but was told just to keep them all out of the way until the gong was rung.

     When I returned and handed Uncle his glass the boys were sitting either side of the deckchair on the grass with him telling them some involved tale about a prisoner escaping and how the Redcaps had found him hiding in a cubicle of a Ladies' lav in Colchester all dressed in blouse, skirt and high heels and how the Redcaps had been pursued by angry ladies who'd had their privacy disturbed and the prisoner had escaped again.  The imagery of flailing umbrellas and handbags wielded with intent caused great merriment.  The gong then sounded and we four, happy band of warriors, entered the dining-room to be met by gorgeous smells of a Sunday roast dinner.  There was a piece of lamb - from the farmer down the lane - roast potatoes, carrots, peas and even cabbage, all done to perfection.  Uncle Edward and the ladies had a couple of glasses of wine and, as a second bottle was to be opened, us boys were allowed a half glass each.  Flea, next to me kept nudging my knee which caused Fido to respond slightly.  Flea was going to get a good going over later in bed!  I'd noted before that a little drop of wine raised my arousal level.  But, I mustn't be like the porter!

     With a plate of raspberries and redcurrants for afters so ended a lovely lunch.  I was replete and we all, including the ladies, went down and sat on the bank near the river.  Plans were being made for the rest of my stay.  The farmer said he was cutting two fields of wheat the next day so we would be having a look at that and, with luck, might come home with a rabbit.  A trip to Felixstowe was planned.

     “We'd better go on Tuesday,” said Lachlan, “`cause Wednesday's early closing.”

     “We couldn't go Wednesday,” I said, “I'm going home that day.”

     There was a silence.

     “Do you have to go home?” came a plaintive query from Andrew, “Can't you stay longer?”

     “When do you go back to school?” asked Mrs Cameron.

     “Oh, Thursday the seventh,” I said, that date etched on my consciousness.

     “That's another week away,” she said.  “If you want to stay you can.  I'm going to London again on the sixth so I'll see you onto the train then.”

     “And I'll go and telephone your mother now,” added Uncle Edward, “I want a word with her anyway.”

     I was almost shaking my head in disbelief.  The boys were grinning all over their faces.  Lachlan even helped Uncle Edward up from the grass.  Silence reigned for about ten minutes until he returned.

     “Thumbs up,” he said, “All arranged!  I told her to get Jimmy the Kid to take her away to somewhere romantic next weekend while the boy's away!  And she and you are coming to the wedding.  I said you could be a page-boy with these two, all in little sailor suits, or, as I haven't any nieces, you could all be bridesmaids instead.”

     Andrew burst into giggles and started prodding his brother.  “You, you...  Potty says you'll make a good girl in that play!”

     A slight free-for-all developed where Andrew was tackled down again while the rest of us laughed.  It didn't help when Uncle Edward said he thought so too, let his hair grow a bit and Nanny Saunders could put it in curlers.  Lachlan rolled off Andrew and launched himself at Uncle Edward who repelled the young tornado with some difficulty, roaring with laughter all the time.

     “You two could wear the family tartan anyway, you'd both look lovely in those wee skirts!”

     Wrong thing to say as he was then attacked on both flanks.  Andrew said his father had been born in Scotland and they were entitled to wear the kilt and his father had said the Jerries were scared of the Jocks in the last War as they called them the Ladies from Hell, so there.  A regular rough and tumble then ensued with Uncle Edward at last grabbing both by their shorts and clutching them with his legs round their legs.

     “Give up, you wee Jocks, then?”

     Calling them 'wee' didn't help.  Uncle Edward might be six foot and well-built but two determined teenagers were likely to have the last laugh.  They did.  Wriggling and twisting they managed to get away from his grasp.  He lay back laughing and wheezing as they rolled away and sat up together side by side looking at him.  Uncle Edward pulled himself up.

     “You're a fine one, Jacko,” he said, “I get you an extension of leave and you leave me at the mercy of these two.  I need a cigarette.”

     I flipped the silver case and matches which had been on the ground where he had been lying.

     “You deserve it,” I said, “You told them all sorts of things about me, but I do agree they would look nice...”

     Here I leapt to my feet and rushed off into the shrubbery hotly pursued by the pair of them.  I stopped, turning as they came lumbering through the bushes.  I held my arms out and the three of us, laughing, did a war-dance.

     As Uncle Edward had to catch the seven o'clock train we had supper early and the ancient cab came and picked him up.  The farewell the boys gave him was so heartfelt, they knew they would have a wonderful new Dad!

     As I was staying an extra week and I'd forgotten to bring my Ration Book anyway I wondered how things would go.  Food, I mean.  Not to worry.  According to Aunt Della there was always plenty of fruit and vegetables and Mr Catchpole the farmer was very good for extras.. Uncle Edward had, as at Cardiff, brought his own rations which Nanny Saunders said had some precious sugar and some bacon in the bag.
     Plans for the week were set during the evening.  I was to learn how to sail and to swim.  We would have a trip to Felixstowe on Tuesday.   Lachlan said we could visit his Mum's old Aunt there and get some tea.  Andrew said she had cats but Aunt Della said she'd heard from her she only had one now.  Lachlan laughed and said his Dad used to say Aunt Maude would leave all her money to the Cats' Home unless we visited her regularly.  Aunt Della said he wasn't to say things like that.  She was very fond of her Aunt Maude, but she didn't like cats herself.  Lachlan was made to write a postcard announcing our visit which he had to post in the morning.  Then, after a good start at a game of Monopoly, where I managed to get Park Lane early on, we said to their mother and Nanny Saunders, who were playing Patience and gossiping at the same time, we would go to bed as we wanted to go sailing very early.  That was one reason.  I could see the other reason in Lachlan's bulging shorts which he kept having to adjust.

     He dropped his shorts as soon as we shut the door to the bedroom.  “Phew,” he said, “Gotta give it an airing.”  The six inch thickie was hard and almost upright and looked huge on his slim body.  Catlicks all round and then bed.  Andrew was bouncing around, his own short stiffy ready for action,  Colonel Thomson was in charge.  I made the boys lie down and quietly we stroked each other's backs and sides until I positioned Andrew so that he could lap on Lachlan's balls.

     Lachlan began to make soft `oh'-ing sounds which ended as  I pressed my own hard rod against his lips.  His tongue emerged immediately and he began to lick along its length finally easing my foreskin back ever so gently and licking my exposed end.  I had already sucked on Andrew's ball sac as I had done before and, this time I engulfed the whole of his length in my mouth even if it did press towards the soft bit at the back.  I wasn't aware of time passing.  The feelings like no other were building up as both Andrew and Lachlan also rubbed their hands along my legs and back as well.  I was doing the same to both of them so we were sharing each other until, suddenly,  I couldn't stop myself and my spunk poured out into Lachlan's sucking mouth.  He spluttered a bit, but the feelings must have been sufficient to set him off because young Andrew began to splutter as well.  Finally, with a subdued “Ahhhhhh” Andrew's watery seed hit the roof of my mouth.  The ritual of sharing each other continued with the use of our tongues.  We lay very quietly for quite a long time savouring each other's presence until Andrew jerked against me.

     “Listen!” he whispered urgently, “it's them again!”

     His sharp ears had detected the far-off unmistakable noise of a dreaded V1 rocket motor.  Lachlan was in charge now.

     “We'd better go down to the cellar now before anything happens.”
     We slid out of bed as the noise increased and I had just retrieved a hankie from my shorts pocket, to wipe the residue of spunk off my leg where it had dripped from Andrew's mouth, when the shore-battery opened up.  Lachlan helped his brother put his pullover on, then, checking I was ready, led the way out onto the landing.  His mother and Nanny Saunders were just coming along from their rooms and we were shepherded down to what we hoped was the safety of the cellar.  There were twelve successful explosions but there was silence as we heard the thirteenth approach and then recede into the distance.

     “One's got through,” whispered Lachlan.  “Please God, let it miss Colchester!”

     That simple prayer was again heartfelt.  Uncle Edward was in Colchester and his soon-to-be stepson was praying for him.  I put my arm out and hugged him to me.  I was thinking also of all those other people who must live in those bombed and damaged houses I'd seen and that rocket was now directed towards them in London.

     I was trying to doze but was on the alert all the time.  We stayed in the shelter for over an hour until Aunt Della said she thought that was all for the night.  We crept up to bed but we were too worked up to go to sleep.  I was in the middle with two rather restless boys either side.  I tried closing my eyes but kept imagining I could hear rumbling sounds or explosions then I realised that Andrew was crying very softly.  I turned until I was facing him and  put a hand on his cheek.  Sure enough, it was damp with a tear that wetted my fingers.

     “What's the matter, Flea?” I asked as softly as I could.  Lachlan heard my question and lay still the other side of me.

     “They said they'd fuck me properly if I said about them,” he whispered and sniffed.

     I felt Lachlan's body stiffen behind me.

     “Who said that?”  I asked as gently as possible.

     He sniffed again.  “Can't tell you `cause they'd made me do things before when they said I was a pretty young thing.”  He was crying quite openly now.

     I knew Lachlan was ready to go on the offensive with questions but Andrew needed to be handled gently. I put a hand back on Lachlan and held him indicating he should keep quiet.

     “You can tell me,” I said, taking my hand from Lachlan and slipping my right arm under Andrew drawing him to me and holding him then with my left arm round his back.  His head was on my shoulder and he was quietly heaving with sobs.

     The story came out in fits and starts.  He'd been reprimanded on parade for not having a clean enough rifle so had been put on fatigues which meant he had extra duties to do.  He had been detailed to clean out the gymnasium storeroom and make it clean and tidy.

     “And I was in there,” he continued, punctuated by sniffs, “and these two boys came in.”
     Lachlan started to say “Who?” but I bumped him by jerking my buttocks and he took the hint.

     “What did they say?” I asked to cover up Lachlan's question.

     “They said wasn't I a pretty little thing and wouldn't I like to be fucked by two big cocks!” he sniffed and his brother was getting quite restless behind me.

     “What happened,” I asked before Lachlan could say anything.

     “They held me and took my trousers and undies down and laughed when they saw my cock and said that was never made to be a boner but I was just right for fucking and one of them was pushing his cock in my crack.”

     He was quite distraught now, but I thought it best to get the whole story out.  I held him tightly as his chest heaved with his sobs.

     “You're OK, Andrew, tell me more.”  I stroked the back of his head.

     “The other one tried to get me to suck his cock but I wouldn't `cause I did say I'd bite it off.  He said it would be the last thing I did and then they made me toss them off and they pushed my face into their stuff and told me to clean it up properly and went off  laughing and saying I'd nice soft hands.”

     All this came out in one long rush.  Lachlan was not to be silenced any longer. He reared over my back and in a voice dripping with venom and hate snarled, “And who were the fuckers?  I'll kill the bastards!”

     “I knew you would do that so I didn't dare tell you, I didn't want to get you into trouble.  And then they got me at Easter camp and said if I ever told anyone they would fuck me properly!”

     He clutched at me as his brother vaulted over me and stood by the bed beside Andrew.

     “Tell me their names and I promise you they'll wish they'd never been born!” he said slowly and very deliberately, “When did this happen?....”  He gasped, realising what Andrew had said.  “...Before Easter?  And you never told me!  I'm your brother.  I'm responsible for you!”  He knelt down and put his arms round his brother as well.  He also began to weep.  “Oh, Andrew, I'm so sorry, you should have said something..”

      I moved over in the bed pulling Andrew with me.  Lachlan got into bed behind him and we clutched and cuddled him until both were more composed.  The Doodlebug attack plus these revelations had raised everyone's emotions.  I felt for Andrew who must feel very vulnerable amongst boys so much bigger and so much more developed than him.

     “Can't you tell me who they were?” I asked.  He shook his head.

     “Which class are they in?” asked Lachlan.

     “Remove,” replied Andrew a bit more steadily.

     “Bastards!” breathed Lachlan, “They're all big and thick and stay there for years until they leave.”

     “Lawson, the one you thumped, he's in Remove...,” said Andrew slowly.

     “And was he one of them?” demanded Lachlan.

     Andrew shook his head.  “His friend....”

     “Castleman...,” Lachlan whistled through his teeth.  “It was him and that big bastard Fitzroy, eh?”  He didn't give Andrew time to reply.  “They did something to some kid last year and he left and everyone knew it was them but they got away with it.  They won't get away with this.  By the time I've finished with them their bollocks will be mincemeat!”

     Andrew started to cry again.  “Please, Lachs, don't do anything, they'll get me!”

     He had confirmed Lachlans' surmise with that.  I tried to soothe him by holding him tighter against me but he was sobbing again.

     “Don't you worry, Andrew, when I've finished with those two they won't be harming anyone else!”

     Andrew gradually calmed down and then turned and put his arms round me.  “I feel safe with you and Lachs, Jacko.  I wish you could be at school with us as well.”

     Poor Andrew.  He was more like a boy of  ten or eleven  now, not like the confident young man in the boat, or the youngster getting the better of his brother I had seen over the past days. Although I was only two months older than him I felt ancient!  But then, how would I have reacted being threatened with rape by two thugs?  And I didn't have an older brother to stand up for me!